Aha, I see you appreciate a good fanny?

Last week I finally went back to my long-suffering GP, and after a lot of rambling (me, not him), I got a referral to be assessed again by a psychiatrist. This wouldn't normally be a humorous event of course, but for the fact that when he awoke his computer to write the referral letter, up popped a Google search for pictures of vaginas. I felt for the poor guy, having endured a bout of my slightly edgy verbal diarrhoea, he was now hastily apologising in a sort of 'I'm saying sorry without acknowledging that you saw that' way for a NSFW style clanger. It's moments like this that stick in my mind for years, the little gems of comedy in otherwise bleak situations. But there's also a sense that in order to properly 'be ill', one must never let out a laugh, or smile, because to do so would be to give the naysayers the satisfaction of saying you were making it up all along. 

I've had many moments of thinking "Maybe I am making this up - am I making this up?", whilst simultaneously washing down a handful of painkillers with a triple vodka, or eyeing a brand new razor blade. This ability to normalise what others would perceive to be completely loopy is how I know my brain works differently. But it can also make me incredibly brave at times. I can get through traumas that would topple even the most robust of characters, seemingly unperturbed. I may be affected subconsciously, but I'll be functional when many wouldn't be. That's not an achievement though - it's just the way it is, and it's actually sort of abnormal. Are you seeing the theme here? I have totally inappropriate reactions. Tears come out of my eyes when people cheer and clap (that's a particularly odd one), but I can't cry when I probably should. Crying feels wrong when it's not attached to an emotion. 

I mentioned achievement - yet another area where I have rather a backwards quirk - I desire to achieve: 'To have a goal is to live!' (No idea if that's a real quote, but it must have been said, statistically speaking) If only I could be aiming for something a little more pointed than starving myself for an entire day, or having a really big bruise somewhere. Occasionally it features a more useful practical thing like cleaning the bathroom with a toothbrush, or building flat pack furniture, but the reward centres in my neural make-up are not quite as responsive to that sadly. Be assured that I will get extremely angry if I do clean the bathroom with said toothbrush and you dare use any of the facilities afterwards and don't leave them exactly as you found them. I don't do this for fun you know. In fact I don't really do anything for fun.

Tomorrow I'll tell you about my enlarged ego, and how being in charge of things is another of my drugs of choice. I bet you're looking forward to that one (but if not just pretend you are, because my ego needs feeding).